


Soul Words ~ Agape

by randomwriter57



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, anymore, the one where your first words to your soulmate are tattooed on their body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8841319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomwriter57/pseuds/randomwriter57
Summary: It doesn't click at the time.
(What are you supposed to do when your soulmate shows up at your door with no idea that you're soulmates?)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a soulmate AU where the first words you speak to your soulmate are tattooed on their body.  
> Then episode ten happened and made this completely redundant.  
> I wrote another, [more canon-compliant (I hope) version](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8841322), but since I like this version too, I decided to post both.  
> I hope you enjoy these two victuuri fics!

It doesn’t click at the time.

Those three words. The ones he knows by heart. The ones ingrained in his being, printed on his skin for the world to see. Words he has tried to ignore for years. It makes sense, he guesses later on, staring at his wrist with wide eyes, that the one time he manages to forget them is when he first hears them.

_“A commemorative photo?”_

For years, he has pondered what his soulmate wants to commemorate, why this would be the first thing they say to him. Eventually, he settles on the idea that his soulmate holds the context necessary to understanding this conversation. The words on their wrist must be the beginning.

Nowadays, he tends not to think much about his soulmate. He is too wrapped up in his other first love, the ice. But he can’t deny how much he once hoped a certain person might be the speaker of those words. Even his childhood unrequited crush on Yuuko couldn’t trust the one he had on Victor Nikiforov.

He never thought Victor Nikiforov would offer him a commemorative photo. Neither did he think that those words would contain not a genuine desire to create memories, but ignorance and pity.

Well, he supposes his childhood self would be pleased. Victor Nikiforov is his soulmate. Those three words he’s been anticipating and dreading came from the same lips he has always wished for them to come from. Something he never dared believe would happen is true. But he can’t even bring himself to be happy about it.

Victor doesn’t know who he is. Victor doesn’t even know they were competing against each other. Victor doesn’t have any idea they are soulmates - though that is Yuuri’s fault. He’s the one who walked away without a single word, too wrapped up in self-pity to realise the importance of this meeting.

Seeing those three words on his wrist, hours later, he feels his eyes prick. Feels his chest tighten. Hears the thoughts come into his head.

_What an idiot! How did you not notice sooner?!_

What are the chances he will meet Victor again? That if they ever meet again, it will be on an even playing field? That he will speak to Victor? He may have to wait years with this knowledge, and Victor wouldn’t know anything about it. It’s a torturous thought.

Still, even through his self-hatred and embarrassment, he can’t deny the flutter of his heart, thinking about the fact that the wishes he has carried for so long have been granted.

 

* * *

 

Victor has always wanted to know his soulmate.

He can’t deny his romantic streak. In the night, he dreams of dinner dates and coffee kisses and two bodies, emanating warmth. Even his skating programmes reflect this, filled with the rush of emotions he has yet to experience. His latest might be the closest to his true feelings. _Stay Close To Me and Never Let Me Go_. An aria filled with longing.

The single word on his wrist gives him no clues. His soulmate already knows his name, that much is obvious. Whilst that might have been exciting when he was young and anonymous, now he is a five-time gold medal winning figure skater, he isn’t surprised.

What he does wonder is why his soulmate’s first word to him is a question.

_“Victor?”_

As though something is wrong.

He makes excuses. He is missing half the conversation, after all. His soulmate knows what his half will be, and it’s probably the start. “My name is Victor,” he’ll say, and his soulmate, stunned, will say, “Victor?” That makes sense, doesn’t it?

Fate is the one who will decide the true nature of their first conversation. But there’s no harm in imagining it, right? His fans definitely imagine it, perhaps too much. The amount of them who speak to him in the hopes of being his soulmate is astounding. But none of them know the words. The scripts they have belong to other productions. For this one, they are not the leading roles.

As much as he loves thinking about his soulmate, though, he has other problems at hand. His lack of motivation, for a starter. Waiting has dried him up. How is he supposed to surprise people when every day feels the same?

It’s only when the video appears in his notifications that his well of inspiration sees a drip of hope.

 

* * *

 

Skating to an aria named _Stay Close To Me and Never Let Me Go_ is an act which has more depth in its motives than Yuuri cares to admit.

What he tells Yuuko is true, on the surface. He is bored of being depressed and wants to show her a meaningful performance. Re-enacting their childhood hobby of copying their idol is the most meaningful way for him to show his appreciation.

When the video becomes viral, Yuuri admits it to himself. He did not choose any random programme by Victor Nikiforov. There is a reason he chose this one in particular. It’s poetic. Skating to a piece about longing for love, longing for the one person who can complete him. A love song performed by both Victor and Yuuri. A performance for a live audience and for someone who will never see it.

It turns out, of course, that his assumption is wrong that Victor would never see it. After he is bowled over by a familiar poodle and his father’s words - “There’s a handsome foreigner in the onsen” - there’s no way he can mistake it. It doesn’t take an idiot to put the pieces together.

Victor Nikiforov is in their onsen. In all respects, it shouldn’t be possible. He is right, though, he discovers when he runs through the building into the cool, moist air of the outdoor baths. Squinting through the steam, he picks out a head of silver hair. His jaw drops.

“Victor?”

 

* * *

 

The word is louder to his ears than any other word before it. Victor’s head shoots up, and he finds Katsuki Yuuri on the other side of the hot spring, fully clothed and on dry land. He’s asking a question, but the words don’t reach Victor’s ears, drowned out by one word, one question, played on repeat, ringing like the echo of a bell.

_“Victor?”_

He stands, ignoring the shock which crosses Yuuri’s face when he does. Wading his way closer, he says, “Are you my soulmate?”

Yuuri’s eyes are covered by his glasses, hidden behind fog, but he can tell by how the younger skater’s muscles tense that he is right. Without a word in response, Yuuri holds his wrist out for Victor to see.

The letters are inscribed between his veins, a question Victor had forgotten asking.

_“A commemorative photo?”_

He hadn’t realised, at the time.

“You walked away without saying anything,” Victor mumbles. The reaction makes sense now, he supposes. He didn’t even recognise Yuuri as a fellow skater, at the time. No wonder he would be upset. Still, why did he walk away after hearing his fated words? “You knew all this time?”

“I-I didn’t realise at the time,” Yuuri says. “I was too…” He trails off and looks away.

Victor didn’t think his plan would go so awry, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. His priorities have changed somewhat since he got here.

“We should talk about this inside,” Victor says.

“I-I’ll leave you to finish your bath, first,” Yuuri says, bowing apologetically. His cheeks are significantly redder when he straightens up. Without another word, he rushes back inside.

Victor doesn’t know much about Katsuki Yuuri. But he can guess that Yuuri has trouble speaking at times.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri isn’t sure he believes it.

It’s true. There’s no denying it. All of the evidence is there. But it doesn’t feel like it _should_ be true. Like it’s a dream, and he will wake up at any second. He has known for months that Victor is his soulmate, but the idea that Victor is _here_ , and that he knows now, too, is intangible.

He didn’t see Victor’s mark. You can’t blame him for not looking for it. Even though he could have - every inch of Victor’s body was bared for the world to see - he was too preoccupied with not looking at certain parts of his body to think about looking for words.

It must be true, though. Victor wouldn’t say those words to him if he didn’t think they were true. “Are you my soulmate?” That isn’t something you ask a random stranger, even if you were using it as a pickup line.

This entire situation is surreal. Lying on the floor in his family’s onsen, fast asleep, is Victor Nikiforov. His soulmate. The face from the posters in his room is real and moving and alive in front of him.

Come to think of it, Yuuri still has no idea why Victor is here. It can’t have been because of their bond as soulmates. By the time Victor found out about that, he had already made the conscious decision to fly all the way to Japan. That can’t have been for his sake, right?

When Minako rushes in, asking questions, mentioning rumours of Victor wanting to be Yuuri’s coach, he gets an idea of what his motives might have been. But things are more complicated, now. Surely if Victor is here to be his coach, he didn’t expect to be shackled here by fate.

Yuuri can’t keep him here. The guilt is already creeping at his insides, and Victor hasn’t even been here for a few hours.

 

* * *

 

 

Victor awakens five minutes after Minako arrives. He mumbles something about being hungry, his robe slipping to reveal the nape of his neck and his left shoulder. For a second, Yuuri thinks there is something there, on his skin. A moment later, the shadow passes.

Whilst they wait for the food Victor requested to cook, he turns to Yuuri with a smile.

“Our meeting in the hot spring didn’t go quite as I intended it to. Still, I can’t complain.”

Yuuri feels heat rise in his cheeks and looks down at the table. This can’t be happening.

“In the hot spring?!” Minako says, giving Yuuri a wide-eyed look.

“Victor was taking a bath when I heard he was here,” Yuuri explains, a rush of embarrassment causing him to keep his eyes glued to the table. Why did he have to run straight through?! Couldn’t he have waited?!

No, he answers himself a moment later. He has waited long enough for the chance to speak to Victor.

 

* * *

 

 

When Yuuri blushes, Victor can’t help but think how cute his embarrassed expression is. The man in front of him is so different and so similar at the same time to the one he saw in the video, flowing across the ice like hot water. At the time, he was graceful, beautiful. His beauty persists now, but only under layers of self-consciousness and nerves, layers which Victor longs to peel away.

The woman asks Yuuri a question, and he answers under his breath. They’re speaking in English, but the only word that sticks in Victor’s head is his name, echoing in Yuuri’s voice. _Victor. Victor. Victor?_

Soulmates. Perhaps that’s why he was so drawn to Yuuri when he watched the video. Or maybe, without realising it, he’s been drawn to him since the day he offered a photograph, never taken.

“Yuuri,” Victor says. The word is sweet in his mouth, pursed between his lips like a kiss.

Looking up, Yuuri’s eyes are wide, hazelnut brown shielded behind glass.

“I came here to become your coach. I’m going to make you win the Grand Prix Final. Of course, I suppose it’s more than that, now.”

“What do you mean?” The woman - Minako - asks. “What is he talking about?”

Victor keeps his eyes on Yuuri, waiting for him to give the call. He won’t say anything unless Yuuri wants him to.

Instead of speaking, Yuuri looks down at his wrist, rubbing a thumb over it.

Minako’s eyes widen. Her eyes dart from Victor to Yuuri. “You- you’re not-?!”

Neither of them respond.

Victor wishes he could reach under the table, grasp Yuuri’s hand. Press their marks together. But he is out of reach, and Yuuri’s mother enters with his food before their conversation can take any real shape.

 

* * *

 

It’s the proximity. The fact that Victor isn’t afraid to get close to Yuuri, even though his actions take on a new meaning, considering their bond. It unsettles Yuuri. He is afraid to be close to this man. Victor is like lava, beautiful and dangerous. Yuuri worries that if he touches it, he will only end up hurt.

The fact that Victor wants to build trust in their relationship is a good starting point, he’ll admit. But he isn’t ready for all this _closeness_. Not the face touching or hand-holding, and certainly not sleeping in the same bed. It’s all too much.

How is this supposed to work? A relationship. He’s had coaches before. None of them were the famous Victor Nikiforov, of course, and neither were they his soulmate. This situation is new, daunting. Yuuri hasn’t been in a romantic relationship before. Or a sexual relationship, at that. Has Victor?

Does Victor know what he’s doing?

 

* * *

 

Building trust with Yuuri is harder than Victor expects it to be. Yuuri is fragile. He doesn’t let people in easily - even if that person is his soulmate, apparently.

But he’s willing to take time. He will do whatever Yuuri needs him to, in order to make him comfortable. For the first time, he has someone he wants to keep close to him, to care for and love. If he rushes things, he will only ruin this. Their relationship. Yuuri’s trust in him.

For a while, there is nothing romantic between them except for the marks on their wrists. They are simply coach and skater. The knowledge of their deeper bond is spread only between trusted family members and, despite their best efforts to hide it, Yuri Plisetsky. But Yuri Plisetsky doesn’t tell anyone, and the secret remains just that.

A few times, Victor offers compromises. Asks Yuuri what he needs. What he wants Victor to be to him. A teacher. A brother. A father. A boyfriend.

_No_ , Yuuri tells him. _Just be yourself._

And that’s what he does.

 

* * *

 

 

Over time, Yuuri falls deeper into love with Victor. He becomes comfortable with, accustomed to, physical contact. Flirting. A couple of times, he manages to initiate it himself. A wink, a smirk. A lover’s cradle of intertwined hands. Messages sent and blocked by a language barrier. But he doesn’t stop trying.

He knows Victor is only trying to help him to become more comfortable. He is grateful for that. That way, he knows he cares. But compromise isn’t always the best way to go about it.

When he cries in the car park, anxious and worried and angry, Victor continues to offer compromise. A kiss. As if that would help anything.

The situation is less surreal now. This isn’t a god or an idol. Over time, he learns that Victor is human. He has a receding hairline and makes terrible jokes and really doesn’t understand how a relationship works. And that’s fine. It’s more than fine.

 

* * *

 

 

A quad flip. As though their matching wrists weren’t enough to prove they were meant to be together. The moment he enters the jump, Victor knows. This isn’t some fated bond. This is love.

This time, it isn’t a compromise. When he runs to the kiss and cry, filled with pride and excitement and happiness, it isn’t for Yuuri’s benefit. When he jumps into Yuuri’s arms, it isn’t a compromise. It’s love. Yuuri shows it through a quad flip. Victor shows it through a kiss.

And Yuuri kisses back.

 

* * *

 

 

People wonder, for a long time, if Yuuri and Victor are some scandalous couple. Two who were not bound by fate, who kissed out of excitement, not love. They don’t care. When they hold up their wrists and smile at each other, they have the benefit of the truth. The full story.

They didn’t broadcast it to the world the moment it occurred. But that’s given them the benefit of time. Time to get used to each other, to learn each other’s boundaries, figure out how a relationship works. Not through compromise. Trust. Love.

When they part for less than two days, they both feel the aching pain of loneliness. Wanting to be by each other’s sides, both going through torments made more bearable with a companion. Sure, Makkachin lives and Yuuri gets into the Grand Prix Final. But the pain they endure, on their own, on the way to that situation is crushing.

But it gives them time. Time and space to think, to understand. What they want. What their future holds. What they are to each other. Time apart that, though painful, might have been necessary. Distancing themselves so they can look at things more objectively. Try to find the right path.

What are they to each other? What do they want from each other? How important are they to each other?

If the pain of separation wasn’t enough to make them understand their feelings, their reunion is.

The moment their eyes meet, it clicks.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me at [randomactuallywrites-57](http://randomactuallywrites-57.tumblr.com) on tumblr | [@randomwriter57](http://twitter.com/randomwriter57) on twitter!


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